Chapter 9: Tyranno Fin Stew -edited by Don
Chapter 9: Tyranno Fin Stew Posted: July 13, 2012 - 11:18:08 am I tried to get up and managed, but I was stiff as a frozen snapper-fur in Longnight. I was more sore than I realized and colder than I could ever remember being. This time he let me get in. The door led into a short tunnel-shaped corridor passing through the tall massive rock wall. Judging by the length of the tunnel, the walls must have been at least 10 meters thick. The steel door swung closed behind us, making absolutely no sound as it did. Two boys, perhaps my age, wearing dark long fur-coats were behind the door pushing it into the frame. The Old man walked on and I followed into a huge courtyard. The wind was as cold here as outside, but there was no snow. A group of boys of different ages pushed brooms at one end, revealing the reason that there was no snow. The old man kept up a brisk pace and approached a smaller stone house leaning against the mountain-side wall of the burg. Across the yard, a tall building with arched windows and, what appeared to be, at least 20 meter tall double doors. He pointed at it with his flat hand, "The Halls of Hasvik! Sacred, huge and as cold as this world, very impressive and that hall has lots of polished stone floors that must be cleaned and polished every day. Would you like to polish those floors?" "Old Man I will do what you ask me to do, as long as I can raise a hand or lift a finger I will try, I gave my word. It matters not what I want or like, it never has in all my life why should this place be any different." "You do sound very bitter for a boy going on fourteen." "Well you sure are good at guessing my age, Old Man. So show me where the mop is or the broom or whatever is used to clean that stone floor and I will start." "You would start in your condition right now? You didn't ask me for food or a bed or anything." "I never ask for anything anymore. I would not expect to get it anyway. So why be disappointed. I simply accept whatever you deem to be my labor or punishment or whatever you call it and abide my time." "You are actually surprisingly wise for a young whelp, in a fatalistic sort of way of course. I think I will accept you. Let us go inside. By the way, the things you want do matter. It is one of life's greatest challenges to find out what one really wants." I followed him. "This is no mystery to me, Old Man. I want only one thing and that is to grow old enough and strong enough to challenge my father and then kill him." We reached another, but smaller, metal door set into the front side of the small building and the door again opened without him touching it and without a sound. From inside the warm orange glow of fire greeted us. "Don't linger young Olafson. It takes a long time to get these stone buildings decently warm, so I like to close the door!" I followed him inside, expecting to see someone pushing the door again, but the door closed without anyone behind it. 'So they aren't completely rejecting technology after all, ' I thought to myself. The room was archaic; there was no other way to describe it, the walls were rough big boulders set to an arching ceiling. Furs were used both for wall hangings as well as floor covering. The few furniture pieces, like shelves and a big table, were made of carved stone. Carved stone furniture was incredibly expensive now and you would usually find one sample or maybe two as a show piece in a rich patriarch's drawing room. The Ragnarsson Clan had lots of it in the burg, and it was the real old kind from the early days of settlement, before they used Duro-Crete, Mix-a-Wood and metals. The Fireplace was made from the skull of a smaller Tyranno Fin bricked into the wall, it was covered with thick black sod and inside the maw burned a fire, not fed by oil, and it did not smell or smoke like an oil fire either, but it burned with a bright almost white flame from a large perforated metal ring connected to a copper pipe. He sat himself down in a big high-backed stone chair made more comfortable with soft coppery Nubhir furs and soft stuffed Nubhir wolf skins as pillows. The stuffing of an animal's skin to use as a pillow was also an ancient tradition, something my father still insisted upon but allowed only for himself and his favorites of course. The Old man looked even smaller than he was in the big chair and I noticed his feet did not reach to the ground, he tried to hook a foot stool with his left leg to shove it closer so he could better use it. I wordlessly went up to him and pushed the heavy little thing under his now booted feet, then stepped back and waited for what would transpire next. It was quiet and he simply looked at me from his grizzled old face, his beard was stringy and thin like the rest of him. If he had any hair left on his head, besides the thin beard and the bushy eyebrows, I could not tell, he wore a fur brimmed skull cap, like many Neo Vikings, mostly older men did. "You are sure this is your only wish?" he finally continued the conversation we had started before entering. With determination I nodded, "Yes, that is all I really care about!" "How about your grandfather? You care about him! You cared enough about Annar to jump into the water to face two Tyrannos. You tell your friends you want to be a Starship captain and leave this world; these are all things you do not care about?" I was caught off guard by the questions of the Old man. He knew far more about me than he initially let on. I had to think for a moment and said, "I care about Grandfather. He is the only one alive who cares about me. I did not care about Annar; I just don't like unfair situations. Yes, I want to be a starship captain but it is only a dream. I will turn sixteen hopefully alive enough to fight my father. He already forbade me to attend fight classes after the summer break and Greifen said he heard him say he will cripple me to make sure I won't ever be any trouble to him." He prodded his chin up with the palm of his right hand while resting his elbow on the arm rest, "I see!" He then waved with the left hand, "Why are you standing around? Didn't you tell me you were tired and exhausted after climbing our stairs?" "You are an Elder and I am not allowed to sit without permission!" "You had no trouble calling me Old Man and you did find some choice descriptions when I closed the door on you, so why the honorable treatment now?" "I think you are one of the Faceless Seven and thus equal, if not higher, in rank than the Members of the Circle." "No Eric, I am not one of the Faceless Seven. The faceless seven are stone effigies, huge statues inside the Hall made to resemble Odin, Thor, Balder, Heimdall, Ydun, Freya and Loki. Our forefathers who built this place right after coming here on Muspelheim, doing it with old tools, great endurance and incredible hardship could not decide what faces to give the gods. And so it was decided to leave them blank, so if the gods decided to come to this world so far from Midgard, they could give the statues their real likeness." He then pointed to another stone chair. "Use that one. It is close enough to the fire to thaw your bones, but before you do, be a good lad and pull off my boots. That's one simple task I am getting almost too old to do myself, and I am way too comfortable to get up and use the boot puller." After I had done that and sat in the chair, that made me feel equally small as my feet also did not reach the ground, I was certain the chairs were made to accommodate giants like my father and Uncle Hogun. "You do know why this mountain is called Muspelheim?" "No I do not, but wasn't Muspelheim the realm of the fire Demons and sons of Muspel and Sutr, the giant with the flaming sword?" "Yes Eric, and when the first settlers from Earth arrived here this was still a somewhat active Volcano and in our cold world it was a source of warmth and geothermal heat. Underneath the ice around this mountain, if you dug you would perhaps find the remnants of the first settlement. This Mountain however cooled and became a dormant volcano. Specialists from Earth predicted it will never be active again and so the focus shifted to the big island where Halstaad Fjord and the new thingstead is." He paused and leaned over the side, "How good are you at preparing a meal? I am quite hungry you know and I would like to talk to you a little longer before retiring." "You want a man cook for you? I don't mind but would that not be against the traditions?" "No Eric, cooking and preparing food is not the sole responsibility of women. Your Uncle Hogun is a well known cook in his famous Inn and during Festivities he will let no one else near the grills. I guess one of the tasks I have before me is to educate you about the real meaning of traditions and why they were never meant to be laws, but became laws never the less." He sighed but with a smile, "I am not an Elder, at least not one of the Circle, none of the men here are. Even though all of them should be by age and family heritage." "But they speak of you with respect, everyone does!" "How much did you know about us and this place before your grandfather decided to send you here? How often has your father or any of your peers spoken about this place?" I had to think a moment and said, "Midril and Greifen spoke about this place but in such a way I never thought it actually existed, but was just some lore. I never really heard anyone else talk about it before Grandfather mentioned it." "Because we are fading away, Eric. This place might be occupied for one, two or maybe three more generations but then it will be empty and forgotten, perhaps in a distant future it will become a museum or a shrine again but the real meaning of the place will then be forgotten." He didn't sound angry or sad but I could not help sense the melancholy behind his words, "I did read up on this place after Grandfather made his recommendation at school and it is an honor to be here and being accepted means a place in the Circle. Would that and our religion not guarantee this place?" "Eric, our religion was never as worshipful as some of the others. We do not have missionaries or set up churches and temples. We don't have a dedicated priest class or caste. There are no monks, no Orders or cloisters, no seminary schools. All these are needed for a successful religion. We call ourselves the Keepers of Hasvik, as the old Settlement was once called; that has sunken into oblivion and under the ice, and we never saw ourselves as priests or our faith as a religion." He waved his hand, "Don't let me stop you preparing something to eat while I try to educate you, young Olafson! I am still hungry and thanks to your slow ascent that I had to watch, our kitchens are closed." "Where are the kitchens and where is the food?" I asked. "You were able to make a fire out there. This isn't a very big place. Look around see what you can find and surprise me." I got up and looked around. I found that one shelf did hold basic cooking utensils and earthware jars with herbs and salt, grease, oil vinegar and pickled fish. He leaned forward so he could look around the high back. "Don't stop there; open the pantry, that's the door behind that large old Snapper fur next to you!" The pantry was cold, maybe as cold as the outside and there hung smoked sausages, long strips of Tyranno meat on hooks, gutted and skinned Nubhir and a whole Snapper leg. In the Olafson household it was always deemed that cooking was for Low men and women, nothing a warrior would do. However, since I was never considered destined to reach that lofty position, my father had me more often than not help in the kitchen. I didn't just mob floors and scour pots. Midril had taught me many of her skills and if this was a Challenge by the Old Keeper, I was confident I could earn some points. I decided on our Burgs favorite: Tyranno Stew with plenty of Snapper bacon, seaweed flower buds and bread. I found the needed ingredients easily enough and the big stone table was more than a suitable work surface. He was still looking past the arm rest, seemed satisfied with my choice and watched me for a moment cutting the meat, "I like onions in it!" he said, "Midril does put Onions in hers, does she not?" "You know Midril?" I was completely surprised. "I know her stew, Eric. Now get cooking so we can eat. I am starving and you should be too!" As he mentioned it, I realized I had not eaten since the last school lunch and that seemed like a lifetime ago. I was hungrier than I was tired, "Yes I am!" He disappeared behind the back of the chair and a few moments later I heard him, "Our gods don't require much worship. Odin doesn't really care, Thor is content if a man lives as a man should and remembers him. The Elders and Clan leaders should, and thankfully still do, praise the gods with feasts and acts of valor. So it might come as a surprise to you, but you are not here to receive religious instruction. Yes, I love to talk about the Gods, but they are my Gods and my Faith and it is you who must find them by deciding you want to do that or not. Everything else is religion, Eric and that is man-made. Religion has nothing to do with Faith. Surprisingly that holds true to the one religion that has replaced ours on Planet Earth, it was their teacher called Jesus who wanted men to believe and have faith and not turn the whole thing into some sort of enforced cultural ritual. All that was pretty much what caused Ericson to gather his followers and accept the Earth government's offer to settle a new world." A cast iron pan of enormous weight and dimensions was now hot enough for the bacon. The fat was soon sizzling and making bubbles around the wooden spoon, the right temperature for the onions and diced weed-heads. The smell that was wafting through the room was mouth-watering and I realized how much I enjoyed what I was doing. I almost could hear Midril voice giving me instructions in my head. Again he utterly surprised me as he was right behind me looking over my shoulder. I almost ran into him after I had swung the kettle over the fire to bring the water to a boil to get salt and oil. For an old man he moved quickly and silently. "Don't let me stop you, Eric. You are doing fine so far, just a tad slow perhaps." Wordlessly I took the flat bread I had put in a covered pan close to the fire to warm it, sliced it up and placed a spoon full of fried bacon and onion in it and handed it to him, "Midril often did that when I found the stew took too long. It's good!" He smiled and took it. I now put the fish cubes into the pan to roast them. He was done with it faster than Greifen and Greifen was known to be a good eater! "You were correct, this is good!" He walked back to his seat, "What I will teach you while you are here however, is a few things a future warrior, father-slayer or Spaceship captain, might find handy to know. Including how to walk while making much less noise moving around. You sound like a herd of Nubhirs on the run for the water!" I emptied the pan with the onions, the bacon and the browned fish cubes into the kettle, added more vegetables and herbs, and closed the lid. "It will take a little more time till it is done." "Tomorrow I will take you inside the mountain and show you where we grow these onions. There you will find the only garden on Nilfeheim, as far as I know. But for now tell me what you are going to do after you killed your father, assuming you succeed?" I shrugged, lifted the lid to stir the stew and check if I should add the noodles, made from the starchy marrow of the stems of certain seaweed, that could be found mostly in the southern ocean, "I'm not sure, I might simply end it all." "I know a little about you, Eric and the sad thing is I believe you might actually do that, but would that not disappoint your grandfather?" "Yes, but he only very recently came into my life and I had no chance to really think about it, on one hand I really want to simply leave this planet. I would be free out there, he could not reach me, but I might not be good enough and if they don't accept me at the academy then what. Then, I also considered what happens to my vow to revenge my mother? I have failed her before. I did not protect her! I should have done something but I did not. I just cried like a girl and tried to hide like a coward!" Hastily I turned and wiped my eyes. I would not cry! "What could you have done? You were five and you know your father's strength and size!" I stirred the stew and said, "There is always something one can do. I did nothing! I should have tried to do something!" I realized I was almost shouting. I clenched my fists and tried to find the strength to calm down and push the images I was seeing before my inner eyes to the background. "That stew, is it ready yet? It's getting late! I am quite old, you know. I might not be alive by the time you are done with it!" I shook my head trying to clear my mind. "I have just put the noodles in. It will be about ten more minutes." "I'll hold you to that!" From the shelf I took two bowls and spoons. They were made of a light-weight metal and seemed not to fit with the other ancient things. As if he sensed my thoughts he said,"You picked the oldest antiques in the whole place, do you know those are titanium alloy bowls and came to this world aboard the Stockholm Ark." "The Stockholm Ark?" "I wonder, what do they teach you in that Union school? That was the name of one of the three ships that carried the Settlers from Earth to this world. The Stockholm, the Oslo and the Copenhagen. It happens that the Stockholm was the first one to land." "The actual settler ships?" I gasped. "Shouldn't these utensils be in some museum?" "How many Museums do we have on Nilfeheim?" "I don't know. I am not allowed to go to the Town." "We have not one Museum, Eric. For a world that claims to be deeply rooted in traditions, these Neo Vikings of ours have precious little interest in their heritage. You did not even know the names of the ships that came to this world. I would wager that none of your generation does. In those days they made things that went aboard these settler ships to last and these are perfectly good bowls. Now be a good lad and fill one up for me. I think that stew is ready." "There is Heritage Class in the afternoon, but I am not allowed to go there. Maybe they teach about it there." I swung the pot from the fire, scooped a generous helping into one of the bowls and carried it to him with some bread and then helped myself. I was sure Midril's stew was much better, she let it simmer for hours and certainly had a better hand in seasoning, but at the moment it was the most heavenly food I could imagine. He croaked, "I hope for your sake you made enough for a second helping!" Dutifully, I filled his bowl a second time, "There is plenty for tomorrow too, I made more than we could eat in one meal." "Good lad!" The thin old guy actually emptied a third bowl and then burped unashamedly, "You did Midril proud." He turned in his seat peeked past the back rest. "What in Loki's name are you doing?" "I am cleaning up, Mr. Keeper." "Leave that alone. There in the back is an alcove in the wall, padded with furs. Go and sleep! I will wake you in the morning for all your chores!" I found the alcove and lay down and I was sure I was asleep even before my head hit the stuffed skin. I found myself lying on coppery Nubhir furs, lined with bronze colored satin. Mother had the book of legends in her lap and wore that brown velvet dress with the golden seams and her hair shone like spun gold and I knew I was dreaming and I knew I was almost at the point of waking up and I didn't want to, I tried to hold on to the dream, to say something to her, and with these thoughts the dream images disappeared and I found myself awake in that alcove of the old Keeper's house. It was cold! The fire was out. The place had been tidied up. Everything was in its place. The kettle clean and the kitchen utensils back in the shelf. The whole place looked the same and yet completely different as if no one had lived there for ages. The Old man was nowhere to be found. I checked the door into the pantry but he wasn't there and all the food that had been there was gone as well. On the stone seat where I had seen him last lay my fur vest. The steel door was heavy and, unlike yesterday, made a rusty creaking sound as I opened it and stepped into the yard. A man, dressed very similarly to the Old Keeper, stood there by the corridor to the outside door. He also appeared old but was muscular and did not have that ancient look and was also much taller. He stared at me in obvious surprise, "Who are you?" "I am Eric Olafson." "I am the Gate keeper. I expected you yesterday as your Grandfather sent us a message you would arrive. How did you get in without me opening the door?" "The Old Keeper let me in," I realized he had never given me a name, "the one that lives in that house." "Eric Olafson, this was the house of Elkhart the first Keeper. It is a shrine and a holy place and we keep it as has always been for Millennia!" A shiver went down my spine and my mind spun. This had to be some sort of trick. "But the old man who let me in, we talked and ate and he knew much about me. He must be here somewhere." The man gave me a strange look, "Did you fly in during the night and sleep in there?" "No Sir, I am telling you I met this old man on the stairs about half way up and I helped him carry a sack of Soak stones. They should still be outside the gate. He let me in and I made Tyranno Stew for him. Grandfather dropped me off yesterday at the foot of Muspelheim. I have no means of flying." "Your Grandfather is a most honorable man and his word is beyond questioning, but we take great offense to those who use technological means to come here and then lie about it. I will not hear about it anymore. I will find out how you managed to get in here! Now come with me so I may show you to your chamber and give you your chores!" To say I was confused would have been an understatement. Grandfather had made a point to talk about supernatural things before we came here, but I simply could not believe in ghosts and even if there would be such a thing, what ghost could eat? He was solid, I touched him. Yet I remembered he was very cold and maybe it was all an illusion or a dream of some kind. Yet I still had the knife and I was inside the walls of the Burg. The man had given me no name other than his title and led me across the yard to a door that led into East wall. They sure loved narrow stairways around here; inside the wall was a steep upward-leading stairway. Atop was a long slightly curved and vaulted gallery, to one side arched open windows that allowed a view far over the icy planes below, that stretched white and almost featureless to the lead-colored horizon. It drastically underlined how isolated this place really was. To the other side were doorways with drab-colored rough-looking curtains. He stopped at one, pulled the curtain to the side, and revealed a small chamber with a narrow open window. There was a stone slab with a few rag-like sheets, of the same kind as the brownish gray curtains. There was a small pile of snow right below the open window and he said, "This is your chamber. This is where apprentices and students sleep while they are here, not in the sacred house of the First Keeper!" "I cannot tell you anything else, Sir. I met an old man who was dressed just like you except he had a fur brimmed skull cap and appeared much older and very thin and it was him who let me in and told me to sleep there." His eyes narrowed, "That is how the First Keeper looked, but someone could have told you that. His picture is not a guarded secret. I will report all this to the Chief Keeper and we will investigate. He will then decide what is to be done." I simply nodded, too confused to argue. He turned to leave and then he turned back, "That Old man you said let you in here, how did you meet him?" I told him about the sack with the Soak-Stones and the old fragile Low Man I helped. I told him about the closing door and the fire. He then said, "I need to tell this to the Chief right away. You will go down and enter the Sacred Halls; the Keeper of the Halls will give you your chore." Category:Edited by Don